


you can reclaim your crown (rid of the monsters inside your head)

by dame_de_la_chance



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Betrayal, Corruption, Gen, Goddesses, I imagine this tales place farther along the timeline, Not Canon Compliant, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), also it’s probably, basically. the villain is the hero and one of the heroes is the villain., i fucked around with the already fucked up and messy lore, in which the cycle isn’t quite as straightforward as believed, it takes a lot of inspiration from oot and botw, least to me..., the violence is kinda graphic but it’s not That bad, vague Zelda/link but it doesn’t really go anywhere, yeah!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dame_de_la_chance/pseuds/dame_de_la_chance
Summary: Just as all the reincarnations before him, Link finds himself answering the call of Hylia. She leads him to his destiny, and he answers the call of the Master Sword, prepared to banish whatever evil Hylia dictates is to come.But maybe he made a mistake in who he trusted.(Even goddesses can be corrupted, given enough time.)





	you can reclaim your crown (rid of the monsters inside your head)

His name is Link.

He was seventeen years old when he made the worst mistake of his life. He was seventeen years old when everything began to spiral down, down, down.

He was a simple knight, a royal guard. He was appointed to be Princess Zelda’s personal guard, one stationed beside her room and accompanied her everywhere. It was his duty to follow her to the ends of the earth and back, again and again. It was a nice job, really.

Zelda was wonderful. She was kind and compassionate, and though a bit irked at first at not being trusted to take care of herself, she never resented him. They became close friends as time went on, and Link came to trust her with his own life, as she had so many times trusted hers with him.

At seventeen, not quite two years since he began his job as her shadow, a voice whispered in his ears.

“The man in dark armour is coming,” She would whisper. “Ganondorf... you must stop Ganondorf.”

He thought that he had begun to hallucinate, quite frankly. A voice whispering to him with cryptic messages? That was the definition of insanity, and he was not fond of creeping along the edges of loosing his mind.

“Collect the three stones, the ruby, sapphire, and emerald. Head to the Temple of Time. Unleash the might of the Master Sword.”

Simple enough. Link had to admit, they were easy instructions to understand. If a voice was going to tell him what to do, he was thankful they were giving clear instructions. 

Eventually, he told Zelda of the whisperings. Over and over, he was told to go to the Temple of Time, to stop the man in dark armour. 

The urge to follow through became stronger each day. With every shift, every hour around the clock, he found himself itching for his sword, watching the horizon with a hunger look, his legs bouncing and ready to embark on his calling. The whispers only grew louder, the desires only grew stronger.

“What does it mean?” He signed, desperately. He laid on Zelda’s floor, watching her as she wrote in her journal. She had been listening intently to his ravings about the voice in his head and his desires to travel. 

She hummed. “Do you know why our ears are shaped the way they are?”

An odd question. He paused. “No?”

“I suppose they stopped teaching this long ago.” She shuffled off her bed and sat on the ground in front of him. “You see, our ears are shaped like this to better hear the messages of the Goddesses, in the old days when They would send us messages and journeys to embark on so we could do their work.”

He processed this. “You think a Goddess is talking to me?”

She nodded sagely. “Absolutely. I think you have a divine calling, egging you on to your destiny. And I think you must fulfill it.”

“How?”

“Leave.” She picked up his hand, and squeezed it. “You must travel the domains to find the jewels, correct? To open the door of time, and stop Ganondorf. So go!”

“And you?”

“I’ll stay here.” She shrugged. “I would be of no help in your journey, frankly, and besides, my father wouldn’t let me leave this castle without good reason. I can not follow you into the unknown, but I trust in you to find your way.”

Link lifts his hands to argue, fully prepared to convince her to come, but she puts her hands on top of his. “Hylia is calling for you, Link, not me. This is not my destiny. This is yours. You must fulfill it alone.”

He remains silent. Is she right? Was this task made for him and only him?

He supposed so. He’s heard the legend of the hero before. The heroes who lifted the Master Sword to strike down Ganondorf, to banish the evil that blighted the beauty of Hyrule. Must he always be alone, in every life time, upon this quest?

Her soft eyes told him yes.

He left.

Zelda gave him his blessings and promised to cover for him when questions of her missing guard arose. The drive to explore, to discover, to answer gave him the ability to turn his back on the castle, though not for good. He will return, one day, victorious and heralded a hero.

(Did he even want that?)

His quest wasn’t long, and wasn’t particularly hard. At least, the trials of obtaining the stones weren’t difficult in the slightest. Hylia guided him along, offering on occasion divine intervention to steer him on the path of good. He is to become a savior, a hero to his people, as is his predetermined destiny. He had been told his biggest adversary was Ganondorf, who had taken control of the Triforce of power, who was coming to ravage his home and slaughter his people. He had listened without a second thought, because that is always how the stories go. Ganondorf is the man to defeat, and Link is always the one to defeat him. It's not quite even a story, truly, but a cycle of truth. A fact.

He stumbled into the Lost Woods, across the acres and acres of trees. It was a bit of luck, or possibly blatant divine intervention, when he found the Forest Temple. All he had to do was clear out a few ghosts, and the emerald was his.

The rest were just as easy.

He met a Goron who gave him the ruby in exchange for his service. He had to stop the lava flow from entering the cavern where all the delicacies of rocks they ate were housed. It took a bit of grunt work, but he quickly gained the gorgeous ruby without much problem.

In the Zora domain, he was given a trial. The sapphire was much more important to their culture than the ruby or the emerald had been, and so if they were to give it away, it must be into the hands of someone capable and trusting.

They tested his strength, challenging all of their fiercest warriors to fight him. He won with no discourse and no sweat. He had spent his entire life training how to fight. He was already the best of his entire elite guard, which was why he was even chosen to defend Zelda.

They gave the sapphire to him, albeit begrudgingly. The last time they willingly gave it away was to the Hero of Time. They were nervous that history would repeat itself.

He didn’t know much of that legend, given how the story had been erased from time itself, but he gave them his word that he would not fail. He was the chosen one. He couldn’t afford to, nor was he even allowed to. It was his destiny to succeed, like all the others before him.

The three stones were easy, really. It all felt almost too easy. But he didn’t dare question his luck, and continued to the Temple of Time.

It had certainly seen better years. It was worn and broken and dilapidated. Ivy grew through the cracks, flowers blossomed on the roof, and windows were shattered as vines climbed inside. It was filled to the brim with an ancient energy. It sent a shiver down his spine.

Still, he entered. His boots clipped across the tiled floors, echoing ominously against the silence. He was in the Sacred Grove now, a part of the Lost Woods that Hylians feared entering. 

They say that if a person should die there, they will remain a restless spirit for all of eternity. Though he does not put much merit to ghost stories, Link must admit the negative energy he feels is telling him otherwise. Malicious entities may be haunting these ruins, and he wouldn’t be quite that surprised.

He reached the door and set each stone down gently. They reflected the sumbeams that entered from the holes in the roof, creating a cascade of rainbows. He watched as the door opened, creaking with age as the cracked stone moved.

He entered, and found the pedestal of time. It was over grown with weeds and vines and flowers, colours of purples and blues and pinks surrounding the once gorgeous marble block. Vines even grew on top of the Master Sword itself, snaking up and down the metal of the blade, covering the silver in slick ivy knots.

A sense of awe swelled within at the sight. Despite the state of the temple, and the vines growing over it, the Master Sword looked as pristine and graceful as all the legends ever beheld it as. It looks brand new, like it had just been forged by the hands of a meticulous blacksmith. Each carving, nook, and cranny looked just as sharp as they had been millenias ago.

And yet, a new feeling washed over him like the waves of the great ocean. Something dark and sick twisted in his stomach, something terrible and foreboding. His bones felt drenched in the feeling, his soul felt like it it was sinking under the weight.

He had a duty to fulfill, however.

He stepped up to the pedestal, and carefully placed his hands around the hilt. It wasn’t meant to be handled with fragility, yet he could not help the hesitation before clenching the hilt as tight as possibly before tanking it with all his strength.

The Master Sword slipped out, just as it was meant to. Link had never felt a blade feel as melded to his hands as this one, like it was an extension of his body instead of a weapon. It was perfectly balanced, and despite its size, it lacked real weight. It was the perfect blade.

“My darling Link,” a voice whispered in the back of his head. Hylia. Zelda believes the voice to be Hylia. “You have done wonderfully.”

The room begins to brighten as the door behind him slams closed. A feeling of dread encompasses him, the doors echoing as the whiteness surrounds him. His pulse races as he finds himself unable to move, swathed in a blinding white light. Until, he can no longer feel his arms and legs, not the blade between his palms, nor the heaviness of his drooping eyelids.

He’s not sure when he loses consciousness, but he knows he does.

-

His vision is blurry when he opens his eyes, his eyelids feeling like heavy weights he could not bare to lift. He found himself on his knees, surrounded on all sides by a veil of white. His brain was hazy and his thoughts were sluggish. Where was he?

A golden light pierced the wall of white. A figure appeared before him, swathed in golden beams, dripping with gilded lights. 

Hylia.

She reached him, and towered over him, looming like an ancient castle. She held Herself with eloquence and grace, Her head turned up at him, the crown upon Her head reflecting a light that shimmered into rainbows.

She leaned down, Her hand grabbing his chin. Her golden nails threatened to pierce his skin with the tightness of Her grip as She slowly tilted his head up, forcing him to look Her dead in the eye.

“My darling Link,” She crooned. “You’ve done everything right, just as expected. My naive child, you’ve truly done me the biggest favour of all.”

Her eyes were not made of solid gold like the myths and legends whispered. They were red like freshly spilled blood, blood that came deep from the veins that were freshly sliced likely by Her own hand. They were red like anger, like a raging fire feasting upon the remains of a forest or a village, killing all who stood in its path.

“And so I owe you, don’t I? For releasing me from this accursed plane of existance.” Her nails dig into his cheeks, and he winced at the sharp tingles of pain. “The future of Hyrule owes its destruction to you, doesn’t it?”

What?

She laughed. “Finally, I can carry out my plans. Ganondorf tried to stop me a thousand years ago, but surely he must’ve known I could not be contained forever? The hero of old, the last Link before you, he must have known there would be a time where he would come back to fight me?

“But you didn’t know this, did you Link? You didn’t know that your destiny isn’t so cut and dry, did you?” 

He feels tears pricking his eyes. He doesn’t understand what She’s saying, but he knows it’s nothing good. His past incarnation fought her? Ganondorf has been on his side? He doesn’t understand.

“My child, I owe you so much for rescuing me, so I’ll give you this. Instead of slaughtering you where you stand, I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine. A thousand years ago, you trapped me in this prison, and so for a thousand years, I’ll trap you here too.” He feels blood dripping down his cheeks, Her nails having pierced his skin. “I’ll release you into your home, and the last thing you’ll see is the destroyed ruins of you home, the charred corpses of you people and friends, the destruction of everything you hold dear. Everything will be swept up in a blazing hellfire.”

She moved back, and he could feel something being tugged from his hands. What had he even been holding? He couldn’t remeber...

“I’ll be taking this,” She whispered, waving the Master Sword with her words. She laughed at him. “Just in case any rebellious ideas spark in your head while you’re sealed away. But it won’t really matter. Hyrule will be destroyed, and there will be nothing you Not this sword could do about that.”

She moved his chin further back, tilting his head uncomfortably. She leaned down, Her face inches from his, Her nose nearly brushing his own. Her hair tickled his neck, Her lips ghosting his ear.

“It’s all your fault.”

Her nails released their grip on his chin, and She pushed him down. He fell backwards, his head banging against the white of prison he was trapped in. He wanted to sign, to say something witty, but a drowsiness filled his bones. He twitched his limp hands, trying to get back up. He had to stop Her, he had to stop Her...

Her laughter echoed in his skull as his eyes sank closed.

-

The next time he opens his eyes, he is no longer swathed in light. He collapsed to the ground before him, the cool tiled ground, and feels the cracks on his skin. He breathes and breathes, sitting there for what feels like an eternity, trying to calm down. His senses are abuzz, suddenly coming online after years of disuse. Everything feels like too much; his breathing is deafening, the tiled floor too cold, everything around him is too colourful.

“Calm down, my child.”

He freezes at the voice. It is distinctly masculine, yet the tossed in ‘my child’ sends him reeling. Hylia. Hylia. 

He remembers now.

He has to stop Hylia.

All this time, he had been told to stop Ganondorf. The man in the black armour, that man with evil eyes and an evil soul. The man who was to destroy his home. But the villain had been Hylia. Hylia.

Now, he can not help but wonder whether any of those legends were true. Did any of those Links before him defeat the wicked man in black armor, or was it the goddess of time they fought? Were those legends of any truth, or were they wicked lies spun by Hylia to protect Herself, to fool the Hylians into believing Her as someone merciful?

Link does not know and is frankly afraid to find out.

In any case, a solution will not come from the past. His predecessors never fought the witch before, and if they have, their story is lost from time, just as the Hero of Time was. Erased from existence, long forgotten. Link can not look to them for guidance or for help. They served this deity. They did not fight Her.

He had released Her upon this land, and it was now his duty to seal Her back.

He had followed every divine instruction to the t. He listened to the voice that guided him through the domains, listened as he collected each artifact, listened as he bled and cried and nearly died to fulfill the role She had created for him. He listened to Her sweet voice as he opened the Temple of Time, a temple that had become ruins in the wake of the last catastrophe before him, a temple that sealed away his sword and his mistress.

Had Ganondorf been the one to steal Her away? Had he known of the dark forces within her, the wickedness consuming her essence? Or had it perhaps been a past incarnation of himself that sealed Her away, brandishing the Master Sword She had entrusted to him all those lifetimes ago? Had it been he who looked Her in the eye as he slashed and slashed at Her, desperate to defeat the smog that threatened to choke the land in which he would give his life for? Was it he who had sealed Her away in a mournful display of heroism, sealing away his creator as She became sullied with evil? 

He can not remeber what She has spoken to him in the Sacred Realm. He does not know. (But doesn't he?)

No matter what, he had been lied to. He does not know the full story, nor the true correct version, but he does know this. He knows that Ganondorf did not overpower Her because of his evilness. Was there even a Ganondorf to fight? He couldn’t remeber the last time a male gerudo had been born.

(He had believed Her. He had believed all of Her wicked lies. He was blinded and did not bother to look past Her golden light. If he had simply asked about, he would have known that there is no Ganon.)

He knows that he released Her. He knows that She had tricked him. He knows that She plans on dousing the world in hellfire.

He had to stop Her.

He tries to stand up, tries to run off, tries to move, but all he makes is a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. Two steady, large hands, large enough that Link thinks they could cup the entire world, rest in his shoulder. “Link.”

His name snaps something inside him.

He removes his hands from his eyes, the hands he had placed to block out all the sights before him. He glances up, trying to follow the voice. It is not Hylia, but it is strangely familiar. He has heard it before, so many times, times lost to the wind, and he knows that he will hear it again one day.

“Link.”

A face lined with wrinkles and tired gold eyes watch him. His hair had once been red, like flames, like blood, but now was salted with white streaks, fading into a gentle grey. He looked worn and old, and he looked in desperate need of some rest.

Ganondorf.

“Ah,” he breathes out. “I see you’ve finally snapped out of your reverie. Do you know who I am?”

Link’s hands shake. He tries to use them, to sign the name that’s spoken like a curse, that’s whispered amongst adults and shouted by children as they pretend to defeat the great evil. It is such a widely known name that there is even a sign for it, once that Link shakily gestured. It comes off as messy and hardly legible, but Ganondorf could understand his own name.

“Yes.” He nods. His hands are still on Link’s shoulders, and they are the only thing keeping him upright. They are the only thing supporting his aching body. “My name is Ganondorf. I’m sure you’ve heard all sorts of rumours about me.”

Shakily, he nods his head. He knows the myths and the legends that surround the kind of the Gerudos. He knows the Trifore bearer of power only through stories of old, only from the accounts of the royal family that depict him as the villain of each hero of courage, each incarnation. It had been his duty to study each past hero during his knight training. It was customary for knights to become acquainted with the heroes of old, to be inspired by their success, and to become just as selfless and noble and perfect as they.

But no one ever said anything about Hylia being the true villain. No one ever whispered Her name in disgust or fear. So who is he to trust the legends of old when something had clearly gone wrong this time around?

Ganondorf watches him for sometime. There is a sadness in his bones, something that seems to deep into his very soul. His eyes are hidden behind a veil of sorrow. What has he seen, in his years of life, to make him so weary?

“Let me tell you a story, hero.” He sits down in front of Link. He lets go of his shoulders, and despite the lacking support, Link finds himself still sitting upright. Ganondorf closes his eyes.

“Millenias and millenias ago, there once were three friends. One was a queen who ruled a land wisely, and was revered all around for her wisdom. One was a kind who ruled a land that boardered her kindgom, and was known all around for the power he held, the strength of spirit and physique. And one was a knight, a hero who always slept in late, but was always courageous and willing to do what was right in spite of his fear. The were the best of friends, and had gone through everything together. They had bled together, they had cried together, and they had laughed together.

“However, an enemy kingdom was threatening to overthrow the king. The strength in which he was known for began to wane, and he soon realised that he needed a new source of power, one that could save his kindgom.

“He learned of the Triforce, the three keys to holding the power of the Goddesses. He learned of courage, wisdom, and power. He did not seek it out of lust, like many think, but in fact out of hope. Hope, to save his people from extinction.

“He found the Triforce, but he was only able to recover one side: power. He had been rejected by the other two sides, but that was fine with him. He wanted the power to save his people, not the power of the Goddesses.

“With the Triforce of power, he succeeded in turning the tides of the war. He saved his people, forcing the enemy to retreat. He had won.

“Unfortunately, upon finding the Triforce, the young king had awakened a great darkness. The demon was named Demise, who had been cast into a deep sleep after a fitful war with the Goddesses, and he had lost. Demise took a special interest in the man who awakened him, and eventually found a way to possess him. The demon corrupted him entirely, turning the king’s heart into one filled with blackness and rot. 

“The king became obsessed with power. He listed after anything that would give him strength, but specifically, he wanted the rest of the Triforce. He attacked his neighbours, plundered his allies, and roamed across the land of Hyrule in search for the tow bearers of courage and wisdom. He destroyed all those in his wake, conquered lands and people’s, but it wasn’t enough. He needed that triforce.

“The knight and the queen watched all of this happen. They tried to slow his descent into madness, they tried to sway him from his path, but he was no longer the king they had loved. He was the demon Demise.

“They knew what they had to do.

“A war waged between the all the races of Hyrule. The king attacked everyone and everything in search of claiming the power he desired. 

“Hylia, in Her divinity, blessed the knight with a sword. She had watched all this hysteria occur, watched as a war broke out amongst Her people because of Demise. She gave him the Master Sword, a blade which had been used long before this battle, during the battle between the demons and the Goddesses, the Blade of Evil’s Bane, to destroy the blight that was the king. 

“But the young knight was no heartless warrior. He could not bare to kill his most treasured friend. 

“Still, he and the queen travelled to the king’s domain. They confronted him in his castle, demanding that he stop his reign of terror, his destruction. They wanted their friend back, desperately so, and pleaded and pleaded with him.

“The king did not relent. The three of them engaged in an epic final battle, wherein the queen and the knight revealed herself to be the weilders of the last remaining pieces of the triforce. With their combined might against the king of power, they were able to overthrow him. 

“Despite all that the king had done, the knight could not slay him. He could not kill his friend like he would a beast. In an act of mercy, he and his queen sealed him away in a plane between reality and death.

“Because they did not kill him, the king sworn his revenge, and a cycle was born. The reincarnation loop, in which you and I are trapped in, was wrought that very same day.

“The king will break out of his emprisonnent, cause chaos, and the hero and the queen will always stop him. That is the story, told across time, thousands and thousands and thousands of times. That is the story of the hero of the sky, the story of the hero of time, of the twilight hero, of the hero of Hyrule, the hero of the wild, the hero of legend. That is the story which never changes, never varies.

“Until the last reincarnation, the one before either of us.

“With each reincarnation, the king wars against the lands of Hyrule. In every version, he lays waste to the land, he slaughtered civilians. Each time, this weakens and weakens Hylia. She is completely tied to Her people and Her land; if they should fall, She shall too. And each cycle weakens Her again and again.

“Demise uses this to his advantage. Finally, the years of abuse he inflicted upon Her land took its toll, and Hylia was left nearly completely weakened. Demise released his hold on the king in favour of a new host: Hylia. She succumbed to him through no fault of Her own, and became imbued with darkness and evil.

“She went on a rampage. She destroyed the very land She was tied to, sent Her plentiful fields into plains of ash, Her villages into cemeteries. She destroyed so much, and as she weakened, Demise grew. 

“The reincarnated hero and king worked together to deal Her away. Through their efforts, they managed to succeed, though not without cost. The hero was killed in their success, and with his dying breath, he placed the Master Sword on the pedestal to lock the door to the Sacred Realm. She had been banished, but that was not to last.”

Ganondorf sighed. “A thousand years pass, and you enter the scene. Without any knowledge of these events, you answer to Her call. It is only natural to serve the deity that created you, that reincarnated you again and again. You released Her, and become trapped in Her place. You remember this, don’t you?”

Link shakes at the memory. Her nails piercing his skin, Her glowing red eyes full of malice and pity. Her laughter that still echoes in his skull along with the promise of the slaughtering of his friends and his home and his people.

“Yes,” he croaks out. He has not heard his own voice in so long, and the sound of it nearly shocks him. The ability to speak passed just as quickly as it came, and he simply signs, “I do.”

Ganondorf gives him a look filled to the brim with sorrow, and Link looks away. He can not bear the pain etched into his skin. “Do you know how long you’ve been imprisoned?”

The question of how long didn’t even occur to him until now. Panic filled his bones, and he could feel himself shake further at the thought. How long had it been? The hero of time had been trapped for seven years or so, but that was of the Master Sword’s accord. 

“It’s been five hundred years.”

Something inside Link shatters.

“In that time, I’m sure you can imagine how ravaged the land of Hyrule has become.” Ganondorf sighs. “Though of course, not without a push back. The sages tried hard to reseal Her, but only managed to weaken Her before they were sent into a deep slumber. Every Hylian, Zora, Goron, Rito, and Gerudo did their best to fight against Her, but each domain eventually toppled without the hero to save them. Without the Triforce of courage, without the Master Sword, without the hero, there was no hope.”

Link frowned and sat up straighter. “The Triforce of courage?”

Ganondorf gently took his hand in his. He placed it palm down, and Link nearly jumped at the sight. The golden insignia of the Triforce was etched into the back of his hand, glowing faintly in the dim lighting. He could feel a steady pulse of power thrum through his veins, the source of which laid on his hand. His mouth was agape at the sight.

“A little less than five hundred years ago, I managed to release the triforce in an attempt to fight back against Hylia. Of course, wisdom and courage rejected me and found a new host. For courage, it found you, even though you were locked away in a prison of Hylia’s design.”

Link remained silent. 

“Five hundred years it took me, but I finally broke the seal against your soul.” He gave him a tired look. “It drained me of all the magic in my possession, but with the Triforce of power as a part of my arsenal, it worked. I was able to release you.”

Ganondorf gripped his hand. “It drained me of all my life force. I’m afraid I do not have much more time with you. Your mission is to find the Master Sword. It is locked within the Sacred Realm just as you had been, but it can be opened with the might of the six sages. You must wake them up. I was not able to wake up but one, Rauru. Once you do, they will open the door and allow you to reclaim the Master Sword.”

Ganondorf’s grip began to loosen. Link held his hand instead, tightening his grip, desperate to hold on to him. He can’t leave him alone. 

Please.

“Use the sword to defeat Hylia.” Ganondorf gave him a smile. “Avenge me, and save our queenly friend.”

With that, Ganondorf collapsed to the ground beside him. Link screamed, something mangled and hoarse and worn. It didn’t sound much like a scream, too quiet, but wrenched in heartache and terror.

He shook Ganondorf, desperate to awaken him. Please, he can not do this alone. He can not do this alone. He can not do this alone.

He must do this alone.

In the tarnished remains of the ancient temple of light, Link sobs.

-

He journeys deep into the Lost Forest, searching for the Forest Temple once again. He is filled with a sorrow that haunts him, and clutches his only remaining sword. The forests have been ravaged; be it by plagues or by fires, there is not a single tree with a leaf of green.

It only adds to the fear Link is trembling with.

He finds the Temple and tries hard not to cry as he fights that monsters wishing. Monsters that are ghostly and ghoulish, that sprout diseased flowers amongst rotten flees. Corpses that attack with are doused in a mushroom armor. He fights and fights and fights until he clears the Temple.

He reached the very middle of the mansion-like building. He remembers it before Hylia’s reign, how despite its haunting appearance, it was strangely beautiful in a grotesque way. Now, it was nothing but a house of horrors, nothing remnant of a quiet beauty.

There is a boss waiting for him. In the dim lighting, he recognizes who it’s supposed to be. Maybe, who it had been.

Saria. A forest nymph.

She looked ghostly and ghoulish now, her spirit corrupted with Demise’s darkness. Her green hair was vines of ivy, her body green with moss and mushrooms. Her eyes were empty save for two flowers that grew from her eyes sockets. Silent princess, he remembered they were called.

The sight of her terrified him to his very core. But he had no time to bask in horror; she gave him no respite, and upon his arrival, she readied for an attack.

The fight became drawn out and tedious. Every slash he gave, he received. She sprouted devilish flowers that nipped and sliced at him, and he had to cut down forests in order to even reach her.

He could not understand how to defeat her, nor how to release her from her prison of darkness. He did not have the Master Sword, which could break curses on a whim. How was he to calm her soul? How was he to give her peace?

He tried to recall any of the legends he had heard before. The hero of time had gone through these trials, hadn’t he? He had faced down adversaries like these. How had he won?

Music.

Ah, he remembered now. There was a song that was rumored to soothe even the most savage of beasts. The song of healing. It didn’t mend physical wounds, but those wrought by emotional inflictions. 

He began to hum, trying to remember the melody. His throat was raw and hoarse and the hum didn’t carry out nearly as clean as he would have liked it. He fought with the corrupted, twisted form of Saria’s spirit, trying to calm her, trying to help her.

Finally, he reached her breaking point. 

With a final swipe of his sword, she collapsed to the ground. A trail of dirt followed her down, and he hummed as loudly as he could, hoping that the song had the magical qualities they were revered for. 

He watched as the ivy of her hair became strands of green. He watched as her rotting flesh made of dirt mended into a flushed, rosy pale skin. The mushrooms decayed and the moss rolled off of her. The silent princesses that replaced her eyes melted into a warm green iris.

Saria.

“Hello, hero,” she greeted simply. “You are here for my help, right? To retrieve that which was taken from you?”

He nodded. She gave him a bright smile.

“Wonderful. I know you will be able to take on any adversary in your way, as long as you remember to remain courageous.” She began to dim. “I will wait for you at the temple of light. You have four other sages to release. You have my eternal thanks, and my prayers.”

She disappeared in a swirl of smoke. He stared at the space she had occupied for a moment. She seemed strangely familiar, and something plucked a string within his heart at the sight of her.

No matter. He had to save Hyrule.

-

The Zora domain was nearly run dry. It seemed Hylia’s hellfire had evaporated nearly all of the water that once ran through the land. The straggling members of the Zora race were beached inland, baking in the oppressive heat, of both the sun and the fires that consumed every inch of the land.

The Zora temple was cracked and aged. Half of it was in ruins, thoughtlessly destroyed by Hylia Herself and from being exposed and out of water.

He traveled through its remains, vanishing and healing the ghosts that inhabited the temple. He fought against the demons that trespassed such holy ground, fought against the dark forces that had slaughtered so many of the Zoras.

Finally, he came across the boss. It was a blue Zora, one who had likely been quite beautiful before her corruption. She was adorned in royal jewels of sapphires and gold. Her body was rotting, a cloak of seaweed covered her as she moved.

Again, the fight was long and tedious. She fought him, bending the remaining water within the temple, shooting him with icicles and streams of sauna. It was a long battle that Link warred, and he aches for the Zora girl trapped within the darkness. She looked nearly his age.

Finally, he dealt the final blow and hummed the gentle tune. The corrupted Zora collapsed to the ground. He watched the seaweed dissolve into puddles of water, watched as her scales reshaped and hardened, as her eyes turned from red to a gentle blue.

“My name is Ruto,” she began. She gave him a flirtatious wink. “And it seems that every incarnation of Link remains as beautiful as the last.”

He blushed furiously at the remark, which earned a laugh from the princess. “Oh, always such a gentleman. But I suppose you aren’t here to listen to me wax poetry about you, hm?”

He shook his head. She gave him a gentle smile. “Of course. You have three more spirits to save before we can sit and catch up. So hero, you better get to it!”

She disappeared in a thick burst of steam. 

-

He traveled through the volcano in the heart of Goron territory. It had been frozen over, with even the lava turning into ice. The remaining Gorons were massed together near a burning fire, shivering for warmth as snowfall upon snowfall rained from the sky.

He entered the fire temple and did his best. He released trapped spirits from their eternal chains and fought off the beasts of darkness. He found himself eye to eye on more than one occasion with a frozen Goron, stuck under the ice. 

He found the boss.

It was a large Goron, larger than most. His body was cracked like the ancient tiles in the temple of light, and dark energy seeped from those canyons. His eyes were replaced with rubies that lit up with fires, and Link knew he wasn’t going to leave this fight without any burns.

They fought, as the Goron tossed fireball after fireball his way. Link was singed and covered in ash by the time the fight was nearly over. His green tunic and his armpit had been scorched and melted by the heat of his flames.

Still, he managed to put last the corrupted Goron, and with a well placed final slash, the Goron fell to his knees as Link hummed the song of healing.

He watched as the Goron’s crakes skin began to mend, the dark energy no longer spilling freely. His ruby eyes turned into those of onyx, and the flames that slit his face slowly dimmed to nothing but a small simmer.

“Hello, hero!” He cheered. “Wow, you made it so far! You’re doing so great!”

Link blushed at the praise. He scratched the back of his neck, and the Goron moved toward him, looking almost prepared to hug him. At the last minute, he put his arms down, likely doubting his corporeality.

“My names Darunia, brother. You’ve just purified the sage of fire. You have two more sages to save. I know you can do this, so don’t give up! Stay courageous, hero!”

Darunia disappears in a furious flame.

-

He wandered the spirit temple, and was met with by far the most horrid sights yet. The place was crawling with creatures of rotting flesh, with bones jutting out of their remaining skin, blood oozing from every surface. He will admit to throwing up a few times along the way.

Still, he fights each one and clears the temple as best he could. There are so many spirits that linger in this cursed temple, so many that scream at him, that begged for help, to save them, or to grant them mercy and sever their chains to the prison they were connected to. 

He was quivering like a leaf by the time he had found the boss.

She was Gerudo, one with a flickering form, appearing like a spirit herself. She was covered head to toe in bandages that were bloodied and appeared nearly like a mummy. Her eyes were filled with dark energy instead of irises, her hair seemed to have the texture and color of blood, oozing down her back. 

Link was frightened to death at the sight of her. Surely, she was the most ghastly creature he had seen on this journey. Her rotting flesh made tears prick in his eyes at the smell and the sight of the oozing, dark blood that dropped in a trail behind her as she moved.

She was much trickier to defeat than her counterparts. She wasn’t quite solid and could shift her tangibility. It was difficult to place a hit on her, but she could certainly hit back. 

Still, he managed to figure out her pattern. He stuck her down at just the right time and watched as she flickered into corporeality. He hummed the same song as before, hoping to heal her fragile soul.

“Hero, my name is Nabooru,” the spirit said, standing up to her full height, towering over him. “I must say, I expected nothing less. You did a great job.”

She sent him a soft smile. “You’re becoming more powerful with each trial. I’m sure you know you only have one sage left to save, right?”

He nodded vigorously. He was eager to end this journey. Despite being a knight, Link had never been much for conflict. He’d never been much of a fighter unless he as to be, and he really didn’t want to be. Not any more.

She gave him another smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes. “You’re almost done, hero. Your spirit will get the rest you deserve soon enough.”

She flickered out from existance, and Link felt a strange coil of sorrow twist within him.

-

The temple of shadows was just as terrifying as the spirit temple. Instead of creatures of rotting flesh, there were monsters made of shadows and nightmares. He remembered being a child, afraid of the dark, not because he was afraid of being without light, but the monsters that it would bring.

He understands now why children are afraid of the dark. He certainly was right to be afraid.

Monsters of terrifying natures, of dark energy who lived off fright, thrive within the temple. Link tried to clear them all out, tried to work through his childhood fear, but it was so dark within the temple, filled to the brim with monsters. 

Crying wasn’t becoming of a hero, but by the time LInk made it to the center of the temple, years were spilling down his cheeks. He didn’t bother wiping them away.

The boss was more shadow than a person. It remained fluid in shape, with two gleaming red eyes the only thing that stood out within the inky blackness of its body. 

Link fought the shadow as best he could. It eventually took the same form as him, and he found himself fighting his twin. He felt as if he was fighting his mirror, his shadow that copied his every move, that blocked when parried, and partied when he blocked.

People were mocked at for being afraid of their own shadow, but now Link understood. Your shadow could become your own worst enemy since it knows you just as well as you know yourself.

Eventually, he gained the upper hand. With a final slash through its body, it fell to the ground. Link hummed the song of healing, hoping desperately that it would work. 

The shadow began to form into a person. Blackness melted into a variety of color as a woman with white hair was revealed underneath. Those flaming eyes remained just as red as before, but instead of rage, they held a tired gleam.

“My name is Impa,” she simply stated. “And I’m the last of the sages you needed to rescue. You did well, hero.”

She watched him for a moment. He shuffled under her keen eyes and waited for her to continue. Whatever she saw, either within him or his actual body, seemed to please her. “Well, hero, I suppose it’s time for you to retrieve that which you lost. The Master Sword is calling for you. So answer it.”

She disappeared in a cloud of black. 

-

Link journey to the temple of light, his pulse beating steadfastly under his skin. Answer the call of the Master Sword. The last time he had, he unleashed a great evil upon Hyrule. What would happen when he reclaimed the sword? Could he truly fix his mistake with the item that lead him astray?

He entered the ancient temple with obvious hesitation. He was terrified of what was to come. What if the sword rejected him? What if it alerted Hylia that he had regained the sword? What if She came to fight him as soon as he drew it? What if he lost? 

What if he won?

A warmness filled his bones. His anxiety became eased, and the tension dissipated from his muscles. He found himself surrounded by the sages of old, and Saria had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“It’s time,” an old man stated. Link had a feeling this was Rauru. “Are ready to answer the call of destiny?”

No, he wasn’t. He was terrified at the concept, but instead of saying so, he simply nodded. It didn’t matter if he was ready or not. He had to save Hyrule. He had to fix his mistake.

He nodded his head.

“Very well, my child.” Rauru glanced at the other sages. “I suppose we don’t have much time to spare.”

In six beams of multicolored light, the spirits shot off. He watched them race towards the Door of Time, and they disappeared behind it. He waited, watching as the door began to glow softly, before suddenly turning blinding. He shielded his eyes as a burst of light broke through the door, before it faded just as quickly as it started.

He glanced up and found the door open, light touching every surface of the previously dim temple. For a moment, he could almost imagine it as it had been so long ago, before it became an ancient ruin, before its former glory was destroyed by time and war.

“Hurry, young hero.” Nabooru’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “Snatch the Master Sword.”

He climbed the staircase, a bit slower than he should have. He was still nervous about what laid beyond the Door of Time. The Master Sword was there, he knew, but what would come with it?

He entered through the doorway, passing through a swath of light. He found himself in a black and white tiled room, just as he had nearly five hundred years ago. It looked just as it had, in pristine condition despite the gap.

In the middle of the room stood the Master Sword, stationed at its pedestal.

It was more of a feeling that called out to him than a voice. He felt drawn to the blade just as he had so many centuries prior, like a coin drawn to a magnet, like a moth drawn to light. Again and again, he knew his spirit would forever be drawn to this blade, forever tied to it.

He made his way to the pedestal much slower this time. He didn’t have Hylia’s voice to egg him on, to erase his previous anxiety, to manipulate his feelings into only awe. He didn’t have Her guidance, only himself this time.

He answers the call.

He placed his fingers of its hilt, and took a deep breath. He was really answering his destiny if he pulled it out again. There was no turning back.

Link was terrified. He was terrified of the battle that laid ahead, terrified of the battles he had waged prior to finding the Master Sword. But he was not petrified. He couldn’t afford to be.

He lifted the blade with all his might and felt it slip out like butter. A light shone around him for a moment as the blade slipped from its spot, for the first time in five hundred years. 

Despite the time gap, Link could feel the sword meld with his arm. It felt like an extension of himself rather than just another tool. Perfectly balanced despite its girth, and it fit into his hands like a glove.

“Fantastic!” Saria cheered. “You’re truly the hero of courage now!”

“Now that you have the weapon,” Impa began, all business. “You must head to Hyrule’s castle. Hylia dwells there, plotting Her next attack.”

“Seek Her out,” Darunia offered. “Be swift in battle, and have no fear. You will succeed.”

“We will keep the door open long enough for you to slay Her,” Rauru stated. “So you may seal Hylia inside the Sacred Realm once more. However, we can not hold it open indefinitely; as we speak, it is draining our energies.”

“Hurry, little hero,” Nabooru chided. “Save the day, reclaim your victory. Avenge the fallen.”

“Stay courageous,” Saria whispered. “Remember, courage is not the absence of fear, but persevering in spite of it. I know you are terrified, and rightfully so. But you must remain courageous. We are counting on you.”

“Now, run Link. Run.”

“Answer the call.”

He would.

-

He journeyed to the heart of Hyrule. It wasn’t without battles; there was certainly still a roaming entourage of Hylia’s dark forces in all corners of Hyrule. He skated many corpses along his way, hoping they would get the peace they deserved.

Still, he tried to hurry. He wanted nothing more than to procrastinate and stave off the inevitable, but they were counting on him. The six sages, and the people of Hyrule- they all depended on him. He couldn’t let them down, not again.

So he persisted.

He reached the ancient castle and found smoldering ruins instead. It looked just as dilapidated as the surrounding village, laid to waste by Hylia on Her ceaseless rampage. It shouldn’t have been surprising, yet his breath was stolen by the sight. It was strange to see what had been once an impenetrable fortress now crumbling.

He made his way carefully inside the castle. Restless souls lingered about and he tried his best to set them free as he searched about. He left no stone unturned, no room unchecked.

He had no idea where Hylia could be hiding. The castle was huge, and Link never had a chance to fully explore it, five hundred years back. He had been stationed at Zelda’s room and only her room, and since she wasn’t allowed to travel much, he didn’t get to see every inch of the castle like he would have preferred.

Most of the castle was crumbling and collapsed, so it did rule out quite a few areas. Really, Hylia’s interior design saved him quite a bit of time.

He walked along the hallways, letting his fingers ghost the walls that remained. Nostalgia hit him full force as he remembered all the time he spent in this castle, watching and listening and guarding.

He remembered all the times Zelda and he would explore the castle despite being told to stay in her room. He remembered how they would spend hours on end in the library, learning about whatever happened to be Zelda’s interest at the moment. He remembered all the times they would play hide and seek, and how Link would find her every time.

A feeling of sorrow filled his bones. What would he do once he won? He had no home to go back to, no Zelda to receive him with open arms. Once he sealed away Hylia, the sages would disappear and he would be left with nothing but the sword strapped to his back.

There was nothing left for him.

He paused outside a particular door. The intricate carvings and the fancier than usual doorknob gave a clear indication as to what room this was. Zelda’s room.

He lingered, before letting go of the doorknob. He couldn’t bring himself to check, not yet. Not yet. 

He continued to wander and wander, unsure of where he was going. Where was Hylia? Was She hiding from him? Did She know he was here?

He walked into the throne room, glancing around. It was just as tattered as the rest of the castle. The intricately sewn tapestries that depicted all the Zeldas and Links before him were ripped and fraying. The stain glass windows, dyed in colours that would always reflect the most beautiful raindows, were shattered to pieces. He stepped on the shards and listened to the crunch of now ancient glass.

“Hello, my child.”

His blood ran cold. He glanced up to see that the throne room wasn’t as empty as he initially thought. The middles throne, where the king or queen would sit, whichever held the position of power, was seated.

Her blond hair shimmered in the light of the raging fires around them. Her blood-red eyes glowed eerily as they pierced his very soul. She wore the same dress as she did when he left her, the same jewels crowning her head. She looked exactly the same.

“Zel...da,” he whispers as he creeps towards her. His voice cracks from eternities of disuse, and the name comes out too dry to be understood. Link isn’t even sure she recognized her own name.

Link isn’t sure if this is Zelda.

But it looks just like her. She has her cheeks and her lips and her golden hair and her demeanor and the same, devilish smirk that curled the ends of one lip, the smirk she would wear whenever she bested him at playing cards or tripped him up with a really good riddle or whenever she caught him sleeping on the job. 

“Oh Link, did five hundred years of slumber make you so forgetful?” Zelda’s smirk turned predatory, and that was a look Link had never seen on her face before. A look he never wanted to see. “Don’t you remember the stories of where the royal bloodline comes from?”

He freezes in place. It all clicks, and he feels so stupid, so stupid to have ever forgotten. It is at this moment he remembers something very special.

Zelda is Hylia reborn.

She lifts herself off the throne with grace. She towers over him from her spot, the throne seated on a line of marble stairs. But she didn’t need the added height to loom over him; the radiating darkness coming from her spoke volumes enough.

“When the very first war waged, when there was a great battle between the Goddesses and the demons, there had been a young man. That was you, Link, your very first incarnation. You defeated the demons and saved Hyrule, before it became your destiny to do so. You died in my arms.”

She descended from her place on the steps. Link remained still, completely motionless, only his eyes trailing after her as she walked. Her heels clicked against the marbles, echoing around like thunder.

She reached him, closing the space with ease. She invaded his personal space as if nothing had changed between them. Like she was still his Zelda, and he was her Link, and nothing else was different.

Her hands cupped his face, and he flinched. “I cradled your body in my arms. You fulfilled the cruel destiny I laid out for you, all those years and years ago, with no asking of a reward. You were simply, utterly loyal to me, and I had killed you for it.

“So in return, I gifted you with reincarnation. I promised that you would fulfill your only dream, to always be able to help people. And then I made the decision to split myself in two. I rebirthed myself into Zelda, the first Zelda of the kingdom of Hyrule, who became the queen with a loyal knight named Link and a best friend named Ganondorf. But my other half remained with the other goddesses. Weak, but still a deity in Her own right.”

She leaned in close, her red eyes peering into his. “And then the cycle came, yada yada yada. And then, the reincarnation before yours, I became enlightened. What point was this cycle, anyhow? Ganondorf would only continue to destroy my home, again and again. What was the point?

“I decided that I shall destroy it by my own hand.” She let their noses touch. “Hyrule was destined to fall. It was only a matter of time. So why not destroy it myself, end its suffering, grant it mercy? So no enemy of mine will ever succeed in taking me down. The only person to cause my blight would be myself.

“Do you understand, Link?” Her hand caressed his face, and he resisted the urge to lean into it. This wasn’t his Zelda. “Hyrule will fall. I’m simply making it come sooner than necessary.”

Her touch was gentle, so unlike the nails that pierced his skin. He melted under her touch, because it was Zelda, and she knew how to make him weak. She remembered, even if she was more goddess than mortal now. She knew him.

“Will you join me, my friend?” Her words ghosted his lips. “Won’t you join me in ending our people’s suffering?”

Before he could respond, she pressed their lips together. His eyes slid closed and he nearly dropped the Master Sword, his body losing all the strength needed to stay upright. His knees threatened to buckle under his weight, and he gave a soft moan as she adjusted their position, holding his head and supporting him as she deepened the kiss.

Maybe she was right. Hyrule was destined to die, anyway. Why not just let it die by her hand before anyone else comes to reap from her weakness?

Maybe she was right...

The weight in his hand suddenly snapped him back to attention. The thrum of the Triforce awakened him, the pulsing of power through his veins breaking his train of thought.

He pushed away from her, wrenching away from her grip. He twisted the Master Sword in his hand before pointing it at her, threatening her should she try again. 

“No,” he whispered. It was a whisper, soft, but certainly not gentle. It was the loudest he had ever spoken, the clearest sound he had ever uttered. It spoke the volumes he could never reach, the emotions he could never speak.

Zelda’s smile turned into a glare. “You could be my knight, just as you had all that time ago. You are nothing without me, Link. Don’t you understand? You can’t say no.”

“No,” he repeats, slightly stronger than last time. It’s invigorating, the sound of his voice rasping back at her. 

“You owe me everything!” She screamed. “You owe me your life and your loyalty! How dare you! How dare you undermine your Goddess! Say yes!”

“I don’t owe you anything, Demise.” This time, he signed it out. He watched as her ruby eyes glowed in anger, bursting into tiny flames that danced about her irises.

“How dare you!” She screeched. “How dare you!”

A burst of light barreled toward him. He dodged, jumping back from the beam. It hit the family portrait on the wall behind him, burning the already charred picture.

“You’ll betray me for the last time, hero,” She seethed. “I gave you the Master Sword, and I will take it away.”

“You gave me this sword to defeat evil. Now, you have become the evil I must defeat.” There is remorse in his eyes as he signs, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, I’m the sorry one here.” She sends another beam of light towards him, and he ducks just at the last minute. “I should have killed you when you first woke me up. I shouldn’t have bothered granting you mercy. Now not only are you gonna see your home lit up in flames, but I’m going to destroy you too.”

She made a motion of releasing an arrow, and Link used his shield to block an arrow of light that sailed toward him. She continued to release a sling of arrows his way, it felt as if it was raining light. Still, he held his ground and kept his shield high.

He charged at her, dodging each arrow she sent his way. Her hair was turning a brilliant gold, lighting up the room they were in. Her eyes were glowing like embers, and he saw himself reflected in the fires of her eyes. 

He swung the sword at her side and she blocked it with a shield of light. He swung again and she dodged, creating a spear of light before swinging right back at him.

He leapt back, but not quite in time to miss it. The tip of the spear grazed his cheek, cutting just under his eye. He felt blood drip down his cheek but paid it no mind. He raised his shield to block after blow and swung his sword at her yet again.

“Your ancestors fought for me!” She shrieked. “Each Link before you has obeyed my every whim. I chose you to be my knight, to remain by my side as I destroy the last bits of life. Do you know how many of the past heroes would have been honored?”

He grunted and debated on not answering. “None,” he flashed, just as he dodged another spear aimed for his shoulder. 

“I’m going to kill you slowly,” She whispered harshly. “And then I’m going to sever your soul into bits and pieces, where not even you would be able to recognize yourself.”

She threw another arrow at him before her entire body began to pulse. Link’s eyes widened as he brought up his shield. She released a pulse of light that threw him back a few feet, causing him to stumble but not fall. He would not fall before her.

The fight would rage on for quite some time. He’s not sure for how long. A few hours or eternity; he could see no difference.

Link had been trained all his life to fight, as was the effect of wanting to become a knight, but never had he fought for so long. Though Hylia never waned, he was certain She was slowly draining in power. Her arrows were falling upon him a bit slower than they had been before. 

He wiped his nose, smearing the blood that refused to dry. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Though Hylia may be weakening, She was still a goddess filled to the brim with divine power. In terms of stamina, there was no way Link could hope to defeat Her.

He charged at Her, watching as She pulled back her bow. Arrows sprinkled the air around him, and he tried to block every one.

He missed.

An arrow pierced his side, and he fell to the ground. He had to get back up. He had to get back up.

Zelda loomed over him, her red eyes absorbing him. She gave him another predatory smile, and yanked him up by the collar of his shirt. He let out a hiss of pain as she pulled him up, and they were now eye to eye.

“Oh, Link,” she whispered, her eyes filled with pity. She wiped away the blood dribbling from his mouth, with fingers so gentle he could hardly believe they were used just moments ago to pierce him with an arrow. “Why don't you just stay down?”

He was struggling under her grip. So many responses filled his head, but he didn’t speak them. Instead, he fought harder, trying to break free from her iron claws.

She tsked. “Wouldn’t it just be easier for you to lie down and die? You’ll end up dead anyway. So why bother fighting? Just stay down, and rest. Let yourself rest.”

He stared up at her, holding his head up high under her gaze. “Don’t bother with the bravado. I know you’re terrified. I can see it in your eyes. You’re scared, Link. Why do you keep fighting?”

Link thinks of Saria’s words. Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but rather working through it. He’s terrified out of his mind, but he’d be damned if he let himself become petrified by his fear. He didn’t want to die. 

He stared at her. “Because... I have... courage.”

Courage.

To do what is right, even if it feels so wrong.

At that moment, his gripped the Master Sword as hard as he could, feeling his knuckles turn white. He lifted it as swiftly as possible, and in one fluid motion, the blade found its target.

The blade with banished evil pierced her stomach, and Link gagged at the sight. 

Zelda’s grip on his tunic faltered, before her fingers fell limply from his collar. 

A burning sensation filled his senses. He didn’t take his eyes off of Zelda, but he noticed in the corner of his eyes at the arrow of light protruding from his chest, narrowly missing his heart. At the same time he had dealt his final blow, she had matched him with her own fatal dealing.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. 

Zelda and he stared at each other, her eyes boring into his. An eternity passed between them, his sword still slicing her torso, blood dripping from her abdomen in slow, steady drops, moments before a cascade of blood would fall from the wound. Her arrow still pushing in his chest, the energy sending waves of pain through him with each beat of his heart.

And then, they fell.

Zelda collapses to the ground, and Link fell next to her. Neither was strong enough to support their weight, their injuries to painful to even think of it.

Link watched Zelda, watched as the aura of light that she had been basking in ever since he saw her dimmed. He watched her eyes, ruby red and glowing, slowly become the familiar, clover green he remembered them once being. Zelda.

She was Zelda again.

Her hand twitched, despite the fading light in her eyes. She reached over, and gently, so gently, placed her hand on top of his. Blood pooled around her, staining her dress and the marble floor beneath them. Her eyes remained glassy and distant, and he knew the Goddesses had collected her spirit.

Link closed his eyes, unable to keep them open. He hummed the song of healing, let the notes reverberate from deep within him, hoping that her soul, in its final moments, would be cleansed. A sheen of blood sullied consciousness, but it wasn’t her hand that laid waste to all those people, throughout the five hundred years. He hopes she finds peace. His heart thrummed in his chest for a few more moments, and he tightened his grip on her hand. He hoped the sages would finish the job he had created. He hoped the future Link would not make the same, fatal mistake as he. 

It was over.

“It’s time to rest, hero.” Nabooru’s voice echoed in his head. “You earned it.”

His name was Link. He was seventeen years old when he made the worst mistake of his life.

The Goddesses are to be trusted, for they are of high divinity. They are immune to corruption and temptation, unlike their creations. They are unblemished and without taint, beings that are perfect in every way, shape, and form. They are beings of eternity, who are no more malicious than the passage of time- eventual, ever-present, but not directly harmful.

That is what they are told, though Link understands it now to be false.

Maybe, centuries and centuries ago, Hylia had once been kind. Maybe She had been a perfect being, one full of grace and purity and divinity worth being devoted to. He knows of the legends of the heroes before him, of the very first chosen hero, the one who bore the mark of the Triforce of courage before all others, who wielded the Master Sword She had made just for him. He knows they had fallen in love, once, and knows that through an act of love She reincarnates him, again and again and again. There must have been something within Her worth loving, something pure and gentle and sweet, something the old Link must have deemed wonderful.

Now, She is nothing but rot and decay. She is nothing more than the scourge of Her people, nothing more than a disaster unfurling across the lands of Hyrule, spreading destruction and plagues and terror. She is nothing more than a blight against Her people, a twisted husk of what once had been a goddess whose qualities had only been known to be compassion and patience.

She is a perpetrator of the darkness, an evil planter of terrible seeds. She reaps soul after soul in Her wake, devouring and consuming and destroying.

And with Her hunger, She had consumed Zelda in Her wake. And in Her destruction, She had destroyed the man She may have loved, all those lifetimes ago.

His name was Link.

He was seventeen years old when he died.

**Author's Note:**

> GOD. I always thought it’s be so cool if Nintendo switched up who the villain was. and damn, wouldn’t that be a huge betrayal? To play as link, thinking that this game was like any other, until you realise hylia was the enemy, and then you’re forced to fight your childhood best friend?
> 
> And kill her?
> 
> gggggggg I think it’s a cool concept. I tried to write this kinda like it’s a video game- where there’s tasks to complete before heading to the final boss.
> 
> anyway I just think it’s neat.
> 
> title from king by Lauren Aquilina. I really fucking love that song.


End file.
